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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862765">The Finer Points of Ancient Egyptian Fertility Magic</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvetteClaire/pseuds/CorvetteClaire'>CorvetteClaire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Misbegotten [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff and Smut, M/M, Magical Heat, Mpreg, Snarky Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:41:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862765</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvetteClaire/pseuds/CorvetteClaire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco finally agrees to have a baby, so he and Harry decide to dabble in arcane Fertility magic. Smut ensues. Featuring: Hermione's Awkward Sex Lecture; odd Patronuses; adorable toddlers; Weasley pancakes; and sex on the stairs (yes, it hurts).</p><p>One-shot sequel to <i> Misbegotten</i> and <i>Being Draco Potter</i>. This can be read alone, just for some smutty fun, but the larger plot won't make any sense.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Misbegotten [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>353</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Finer Points of Ancient Egyptian Fertility Magic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This one-shot tells the story of how Draco actually gets up the duff. It bridges the time between <i>Being Draco Potter</i> and the next story to come.</p><p>It turns out to that I don't really enjoy writing pure smut. I prefer conversations, snark, angst and (gasp!) plot. So I wove in a bit of all those things (not much angst in this one), with plenty of smut as well, in what I hope is an effective combination.</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A streak of silver mist dropped down through the ceiling of the tiny office, landingsquarely on Harry’s desk. Ron’s head came up, his eyes wide, and both men watched the mist condense into a small, comical creature with a curved bill and flat tail.</p><p>“What in bleeding hell…” Ron began, only to be interrupted when the Patronus rose up on its hind legs to confront Harry and spoke in Draco’s most haughty, demanding tone.</p><p>“Home, Potter. Now!”</p><p>Harry started, dropped his quill, and leapt to his feet.</p><p>The Patronus began to waver and thin, like smoke on a breeze, but it had enough power left in it to add, “And I do mean <em>now!</em>” before it disappeared.</p><p>“Fuck!” Harry looked around in some confusion, patting his pockets in search of his wand, completely forgetting that it was safely sheathed on his forearm. “Fuck, fuck, <em>fuck!</em> I have to get home…”</p><p>Ron was still staring at the spot where the little creature had stood, looking as if he’d been Confunded. “What was that thing?”</p><p>“Draco’s Patronus, obviously,” Harry replied, now eyeing the piles of parchment and file folders on his desk in dismay.</p><p>He’d promised Robards that he would clear his desk today—complete all his half-finished incident reports, sort out the jumbled case files, and get them down to Records for archiving. There was at least eight hours of work lying there in front of him, and he’d already managed to waste half the day drinking tea and arsing about with Ron (not that Star Auror Harry Potter was a chronic procrastinator, mind you). Now Draco needed him, and if Harry was right about what had inspired that peremptory summons, he wouldn’t be getting his paperwork done anytime soon.</p><p>Robards would be livid.</p><p>“I know it’s a Patronus,” Ron said, cutting in on his thoughts, “but what <em>is </em>it? Some kind of rat with a duck-face?”</p><p>Harry shot him an amused glance. “Haven’t you ever seen a platypus before?”</p><p>“A what, now?”</p><p>“A platypus. They’re Australian.”</p><p>Harry turned back to the mess on his desk, as if this cryptic statement answered every conceivable question, but Ron was not so easily satisfied.</p><p>“We never studied those in Care of Magical Creatures.”</p><p>“That’s because they aren’t Magical.”</p><p>“You’re taking the piss. Something that barmy wouldn’t even stay together without magic.”</p><p>“Honestly, Ron! Why do you care so much about Draco’s Patronus? It’s a bleeding platypus, okay? If you don’t believe me, ask your wife.”</p><p>Harry began scraping sheafs of parchment together and trying to stack them into some kind of order. It was a singularly pointless activity, but he didn’t know what else to do. Every time a sheet slipped loose to flutter onto the desk again, his frustration and urgency rose another notch.</p><p>“Fuck!” he snarled, when an entire stack of parchment slid out of a folder and spilled onto the floor. “I don’t have time for this!”</p><p>“What’s got you in such a twist?”</p><p>“I have to get <em>home! </em>But I promised Robards that I’d get these case files done today and I haven’t even started! If go into his office now and tell him I’m taking an indefinite Family Leave, he’ll probably have an aneurism. Or sack me!”</p><p>“He isn’t going to sack you, Harry. You’re… wait half a mo’! Family Leave? Does this mean what I think it means? You and Ferret are…”</p><p>“I hope so.” Harry paused in his battle with the chaos on his desk to shoot Ron a pleased, embarrassed smile. “Draco finally agreed to try, so we did the first round of spells on Sunday.”</p><p>“So he’s… you know… <em>thingy?!</em>”</p><p>Harry laughed. “This from the man who fathered two children? No, he’s not pregnant yet. We’ve only just started, and we don’t even know if it will work.”</p><p>“Of course it’ll work! Hermione’s ideas always work!”</p><p>Harry’s face heated and his smile stretched still wider. “I certainly hope that's what the Patronus is all about.”</p><p>“Blimey!” Ron breathed reverently. “I’m going to be an uncle!”</p><p>Before Harry could respond to this, another streak of silver light erupted into the room, forming yet another platypus on the desk. This one was visibly agitated (though how exactly Harry could tell that a furry little beast, apparently assembled out of spare parts, was agitated he’d never be able to explain), and Draco’s voice, when it burst out of the Patronus’ mouth, was edged with something close to desperation.</p><p>“I said <em>now</em>, Potter! Where in buggering fuck <em>are you?!</em>”</p><p>Ron blinked at the Patronus, then at Harry. “Uppity little rodent, isn’t he?”</p><p>“It’s not a rodent,” Harry said, now thoroughly agitated himself, “it’s a monotreme.”</p><p>“Whatever the fuck that is. But I wasn’t talking about the Patronus. I was talking about your over-dramatic ferret!”</p><p>“Something tells me he isn’t being over-dramatic. Ron…”</p><p>He shot his friend a panicked look, and Ron, as always, rose to the occasion. Grabbing the files from Harry’s hand, he tossed them down on the desk and turned the other man forcibly around to face the door. Then he gave Harry a shove to get him moving.</p><p>“Go on, get the fuck out of here. Ferret needs you, and I can take care of Robards.”</p><p>“Thanks, Ron. Really.”</p><p>“Forget it. Hey!” Harry paused in the doorway, glancing back. “How long are you figuring to be gone?”</p><p>“No idea.” Harry cast a longing look down the hallway toward the lifts, eager to escape and appalled at the prospect of discussing the finer points of Ancient Egyptian Fertility Magic with his best mate. “It’s complicated.”</p><p>“Isn’t it always? What’re you…”</p><p>“Ask your wife!”</p><p>With that, Harry turned tail and fled. The last thing he heard was Ron grumbling, “That’s your answer for everything.”</p><p> </p><p>That was his answer for everything. But in all fairness, it was usually the right answer, and today was no exception. Hermione was the only living expert (or the only thing that passed for an expert) in Wizard Fertility rituals, and was therefore the obvious candidate to explain it all to Ron.</p><p>Or that’s what Harry told himself, as he bolted for the lifts.</p><p>Hermione had managed to explain it to Harry and Draco, in spite of their collective embarrassment. So, obviously, she could do it for Ron, too. Right?</p><p>Of course she could. She was an intellectual before all else, with an uncanny ability to distance herself from uncomfortable facts. Harry was not being unfair—to her, or to Ron—by asking her to share with her husband the same information she had shared with her two closest friends. He was not ducking the issue or sleazing out of an awkward conversation.</p><p>Besides, Draco couldn’t wait—because of all those highly personal and extremely uncomfortable facts that Hermione had treated in such a professional manner when she’d sat at their kitchen table, telling them all about magical heats.</p><p>Merlin and Circe and Godric’s Galloping Gonads! <em>Magical heats! </em>The spells had worked, and Draco was in <em>heat!</em></p><p>Harry’s face was burning by the time he stepped into the lift. He was grateful that it was otherwise empty because his face wasn’t the only thing that was burning, and his tailored robes could only hide so much. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, remembering the excruciating scene in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place nearly two years ago.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“The first round of spells are meant to prepare the vessel.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Vessel?” Draco let out a crack of sour laughter. “So, now I’m a flower pot?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry, Hermione and Draco were seated at the table with the remnants of a hasty lunch and cups of cooling tea scattered between them. Hermione had shoved aside her plate to unroll a large scroll that she constantly tapped with restless fingers or scanned in the hopes that it would reveal new secrets. Harry suspected that this was a pointless exercise, that she’d long since memorized its contents, but he didn’t point this out to her. He was far too familiar with her obsessive habits to bother countering them with common sense.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s the closest the translator could get to the meaning of the hieroglyph,” she said, primly. “Later, he changed it to ‘host’.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Draco rolled his eyes and snarked, “That’s much better. Makes it sound like I’m planning a cocktail party.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Or infected with a tapeworm,” Harry added helpfully.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Eurgh!” Draco and Hermione groaned in perfect unison.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry grinned. “Sorry. Go on, Hermione. What exactly does it mean to prepare the vessel, or host, or whatever you want to call him?”</em>
</p><p><em>“Why don’t we just call him </em>Draco?<em>” his husband said sweetly, one elegant brow arched in a challenge, “since we all know who’s destined to be the flower pot in this scenario?”</em></p><p>
  <em>Hermione sniffed at that. “I’m only trying to be professional, to keep this from becoming awkward.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Granger, I think it’s safe to say that there is no way in </em>bleeding hell <em>this isn’t going to be awkward! So just spit it out, already.”</em></p><p><em>“</em>Fine<em>. From what I gather, the spells are intended to alter your body so you can conceive and carry a child. They, er…” She stalled out, her cheeks heating, then rallied. “That is, they create a kind of womb.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Well.” Harry exchanged a glance with Draco. “That makes sense, I suppose. How long does that take?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There’s no timeframe given. All it says is that the host— I mean, Draco will know when his body is ready.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How will I know?” Draco demanded. He had on his blankest, haughtiest face, telling Harry that he was deeply unsettled by this talk of hosts and wombs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione cleared her throat. Her blush deepened, and her fingers resumed their restless tapping. “When the magic has finished its work and your body is ready for conception, you will experience a kind of… well… I suppose you could call it a… that is…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As Hermione once again wandered off into tortured half-sentences, Harry sighed and shoved a hand through his hair in exasperation. “For Fuck’s sake! We’re all adults, Hermione. Whatever it is, we can take it, I promise.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She let out an explosive breath, fixed her eyes on Harry’s face (to avoid Draco’s, he suspected), and blurted out, “He’ll go into heat!”</em>
</p><p><em>“He’ll… what?” Harry spluttered, even as Draco hissed, “The </em>hell<em> I will!”</em></p><p>
  <em>“It’s a necessary part of the process,” Hermione insisted, gaining confidence now that the problematic word was out of her mouth. “The male body is not meant for bearing children. It can’t support the necessary organs and systemic changes for long, without magic to sustain them. So you can’t simply create a womb in a wizard’s body and leave it there, empty, while you mess about. You have to get the job done!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Both men just gaped at her, dumbfounded, while her academic fervor mounted.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s brilliant, if you think about it. Building in a failsafe, to protect the host and guarantee offspring to continue the family bloodline. That kind of hormone-driven mating imperative is perfectly natural…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“In dogs and cats,” Draco cut in, sourly.</em>
</p><p><em>“In </em>many<em> living creatures,” she corrected, “and quite necessary, given the constraints of magic! You have to conceive as quickly as possible, or your body will begin to reject the organs planted in it. That would be extraordinarily dangerous. So as soon as your womb is ready, you’ll go into a magically-induced heat that lasts until you become pregnant.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Salazar’s stinking cock!” Draco groaned.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Wait. The heat lasts ’til he gets pregnant?” Harry demanded.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s right.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What if he doesn’t?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He will.” Her blush was now hot enough that Harry could feel it from across the table. “You’ll make sure of it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“By all accounts, the pheromone surges in the— in your partner will affect you as strongly as they do him. You won’t be able to help yourself, Harry.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Just how Draco’s pheromones were supposed to drive Harry into a mating frenzy, he had no clue. He had only the vaguest idea of what pheromones were and even less confidence in their effect on him. But he trusted Hermione and, more importantly, his own ability to rise to the occasion. He was a Gryffindor, after all. Bravery was his stock in trade. He never backed down from a challenge and never failed when it truly mattered.</p><p>If some Egyptian ponce could get it up for a his anaemic, in-bred, half-mummified brother, then he, Harry Potter, Pathological Hero, could happily fuck his fabulous beauty of a husband through the wall as many times as it took to get the job done (as Hermione had so inelegantly put it).</p><p>He was savoring this image, his cock impudently tenting the front of his robes, when he stepped over the hearth and into the drawing room at Grimmauld Place. Then the smell hit him.</p><p>It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before—spicy and sweet as melted honey on sun-warmed skin—and it filled his lungs like smoke. His head promptly started to swim, as every drop of blood in his body rushed south. He staggered back, clutched at the mantelpiece, struggled to stay on his feet while heat and hunger coursed through his veins and turned his limbs to water.</p><p>“<em>Harrrryyy!</em>”</p><p>A human missile came hurtling out of nowhere to strike him squarely in the chest. The impact nearly tossed him back into the flames.</p><p>“Oi!” Harry instinctively caught the armful of naked limbs, flying hair and slippery silk dressing gown against his chest, still clinging to the mantel with his other hand for balance. “Watch it! You’re going to roast my bollocks!”</p><p>“What took you so long?!” Draco flung his arms and legs around Harry, clinging to him like an affection-starved limpet, only making it more difficult for his beleaguered husband to stay upright. “Didn’t you get my Patronus?! <em>Where in bleeding hell have you been?!</em>”</p><p>“I couldn't just…”</p><p>Draco cut off his excuses by grabbing a fistful of his hair and dragging him down into a messy, frantic kiss. Their lips crashed together. Draco’s tongue pushed hard into Harry’s mouth. Harry let go of the mantel to wrap both arms around the other man’s body and found that Draco was naked under his thin silk dressing gown. His skin was glowing hot to the touch.</p><p>“<em>Fuck!</em>” Harry gasped, jerking his head back, fighting for a moment of clarity. Unfortunately, his panting breaths only sucked in more of that incredible scent, sending him into a spiral of want. He moaned shamelessly and buried his face in Draco’s neck, sucking and biting as if he could somehow eat the melted-honey smell off his skin.</p><p>“Fuck me, Harry,” Draco demanded, his head falling wantonly back to expose his long, pale, delightfully edible throat. “I need you to fuck me!”</p><p>“Where’s Felix?” Harry mumbled.</p><p>“The Burrow. Molly came for him.”</p><p>“What’s that <em>smell?!</em>”</p><p>“Fuck now,” Draco insisted, dragging Harry’s head up by the hair to nip at his reddened lips, “talk later.”</p><p>Harry groaned, lunging in to capture Draco’s mouth, thrusting his tongue deep into it. Draco hummed his pleasure and rocked his hips to rub his erection against the roughness of Harry’s robes. Harry thought he might burst from the pressure in his groin. Or spontaneously combust. Either way, it was going to be messy, if he didn’t get his cock out of his pants and into Draco’s body in a hurry.</p><p>He staggered away from the fireplace, moving blindly.</p><p>“Wall,” Draco mumbled against his lips, “now.”</p><p>But the nearest stretch of empty wall was clear across the room and Harry couldn’t wait that long. The sofa was closer, only a step away, but even that was too far in his present condition. The floor would have to suffice. Letting his legs fold under him, he landed hard on his knees with Draco straddling his lap. A wave of magic washed over him—not his own—and he found himself stark naked.</p><p>Harry gave an <em>eep! </em>of amazement and broke the burning kiss, pulling back to gaze wonderingly at Draco. “How did you…?”</p><p>Draco flashed him a chuffed smile. “Wandless magic. Pretty sexy, huh?”</p><p>“You have no idea…”</p><p>“Oh, but I do.” His smile widened, turned smug. “It’s a Potter Family specialty.”</p><p>“Merlin <em>fuck, </em>I love you, Draco Potter!” Harry groaned, as he leaned in to recapture his lips.</p><p>Now that his clothing was so expeditiously removed, Harry wasted no time in reaching his goal. He made a token effort to prepare his partner, but was only too happy to have his hands unceremoniously slapped away. Then he was balls-deep in Draco’s arse, rising up on his knees to thrust with all his might, while Draco fell back against the support of his arms, closed his eyes, and rode his pumping hips with total abandon.</p><p>It was an incredibly enflaming sight—all that lean strength and perfect porcelain beauty impaled on his cock, arching back in ecstasy, completely at his mercy and relishing every second of it. That image alone would have been enough to bring him to climax. But add to that the erotic scent that rolled off of Draco in waves and the ragged, animal noises he made every time Harry drove into him, and Harry was a goner.</p><p>He didn’t last long. Neither of them did. Harry held himself back until he felt Draco stiffen on his lap and clench around him, saw the first tremors of release grip him. Then he pulled Draco close in his arms, buried his face in the curve of his neck, and let go, emptying himself deep into Draco’s body in shuddering spasms that never seemed to end.</p><p>They crouched there, panting and sweating, hearts pounding in unison, for a handful of minutes, unwilling to move or draw apart. It was Harry who finally stirred, but all he managed was to turn his head a little and press a kiss to Draco’s throat. Draco gave a rumbling purr in response that dragged a groan from Harry.</p><p>“You smell so fucking good,” he mumbled into damp flesh that smelled of sex and need. “I want to lay you down and lick every inch of you.”</p><p>“Be my guest,” Draco replied in a roughened, rasping voice, “but only if you fuck me while you’re doing it. Merlin… Harry!”</p><p>“What?” He couldn’t stop tasting Draco long enough to look in his face, but he heard the desperation in his voice and guessed what was coming.</p><p>Fierce hands knotted in his hair, pulling his head up. Hungry lips fastened to his, opening to accept the thrust of his tongue. Hips rocked on his thighs, pushing the burning brand of a cock into his belly. His own cock was still hard, having not softened at all since his bone-melting orgasm, and it pulled deliciously against the tight arse clenching around it.</p><p>“Bloody hell, Draco,” he gasped, feeling his nerves spark and his cock thicken.</p><p>“Wall…” Draco broke the kiss just long enough to demand, “Get me to a wall…”</p><p>“What’s wrong with… <em>mmmfh!</em>”</p><p>Those burning lips swallowed the rest of Harry’s words and drove all coherent thought from his brain. Driven by instinct and overwhelming need, he lurched to his feet. He must have cast some wandless magic of his own without realizing it because he managed to bring Draco up with him, still wrapped around his body and half-impaled on his cock. Then, miraculously, with no clue how he’d crossed the room so quickly or avoided tripping over at least three pieces of furniture on the way, he had Draco’s back to the wall and was crushing him into it with his weight.</p><p>“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, rolling his hips to push deeper into the other man’s body.</p><p>“Getting th— <em>Ahhh!</em>” This last was dragged out of him as Harry thrust in earnest, forcing his body an inch or two up the wall. “Fuck… Harry…”</p><p>“You look so fucking beautiful, spread out against the wall for me.”</p><p>It was true. Even in his lust-addled state, Harry couldn’t help but pause to admire his husband’s wrecked face, bruised throat, flushed cheeks, reddened lips and tangled hair, framed as they were by watered-silk wallpaper. Half-lidded eyes, pupils blown wide with want,fixed on him through a screen of lashes, and a smile tilted those gorgeous lips. A dimple peeped out at the upturned corner of his mouth.</p><p>“Think you can make this one stick?” Draco taunted gently.</p><p>“I hope not.” Harry pushed in still harder, forcing a soft keen of pleasure from Draco that ran like liquid fire through his veins. “That would end your heat, and I’m just getting started.”</p><p>Draco’s smile widened and softened, even as his legs tightened around Harry’s waist. “Just for fun, then?”</p><p>Harry growled and sank into a kiss, his hips beginning to pump in earnest.</p><p>*** *** ***</p><p>“<em>Mmmmm</em>… More.”</p><p>“Hold on…”</p><p>“Hurry <em>up</em>, Potter! I want more!”</p><p>“Quit your squirming, and maybe you’ll get more!”</p><p>“Of all the stingy, clumsy…”</p><p>“All right, already. Open your gob.”</p><p>“About bloody time.”</p><p>“Here, you’re making a mess. Catch that drip…”</p><p>“<em>Unnngh!</em>”</p><p>“Merlin, Malfoy! You sound positively obscene!”</p><p>“That’s because it <em>tastes </em>positively obscene. What’s it called, anyway?”</p><p>Harry turned the carton in his hand to examine the label. <em>Florean Fortesque’s Finest! </em>it blared, in gilt-edged, chartreuse letters an inch high, with smaller text below that Harry had to squint to read without his glasses.</p><p>“Slytherin Crunch.” He rolled his eyes and snorted derisively. “Bollocks. It’s not even the right color.”</p><p>“You’re just jealous that we didn’t get the Gryffindor flavor. Give me another bite,” Draco demanded.</p><p>He was perched on the extreme edge of the kitchen counter, arms looped around Harry’s neck and legs hooked high over his hips. His crossed ankles dug into Harry’s bum and pinned their naked loins together. Harry stood so close that he had to reach around Draco’s shoulders to get his spoon into the ice cream carton, an awkward arrangement that bothered neither of them, though it did give Draco an excuse to abuse him for his clumsiness.</p><p>“It’s too pale,” Harry opined, as he scooped up a large dollop of ice cream and held it out for Draco to lap at with his tongue, “too sickly for Slytherin green. I think Muggles call this Pistachio.”</p><p>“Muggles are idiots.”</p><p>Draco sucked the spoon into his mouth, making that obscene noise again and rubbing his erect cock against Harry’s midriff. Harry groaned, trying not to feel the smear of wetness Draco left in his wake or the way his own cock filled at the playful touch.</p><p>The two men were supposed to be taking a break after hours of frenzied shagging. Giving their bodies a rest and recruiting their strength with a quick meal. But Draco was, as always, only a stroke or two from climax and perversely unwilling to let Harry out of his arms. It would be easier on both of them if he did, but he seemed to need constant contact with the other man’s skin.</p><p>Harry watched him lick the spoon clean with lascivious sweeps of his tongue and, unable to stop himself, leaned in to slurp a runnel of melting ice cream from his knuckles. “Mmm. Who knew Slytherins tasted so good?”</p><p>“You should know better than anyone, you tit.”</p><p>“Call me a tit again and I won’t fuck you on this counter.”</p><p>“No?” He abruptly rocked back to rest on his elbows, knees lifting and spreading in a blatant invitation. “Say that again.”</p><p>“Bloody tease.”</p><p>“A tease doesn’t follow through. I, on the other hand, <em>always</em> follow through. Another thing you should know better than anyone.”</p><p>“All right, fine.” Harry grabbed his hips and, with a practiced jerk, pulled him forward onto his eager cock. “Bloody <em>twat.</em>”</p><p>“That’s more like it,” Draco purred, his head falling back to expose the white column of his throat with its decoration of hungry bruises. “Now, put your back into it, Potter.”</p><p>Harry just laughed at that, not rising to the bait. He was still too wrung out for any demonstrations of power or battles for dominance. He couldn’t resist the lure of Draco’s taunting voice, his heady scent, or his perfect arse, but now that he was inside it, all he really wanted was to savor the feel of his husband all around him.</p><p>He stroked out, then in again, nailing Draco’s sweet spot unerringly. Draco moaned softly. His head fell farther back and his eyes fluttered closed. Harry felt his heels digging into his spine.</p><p>“Like that?” he asked, pointlessly.</p><p>“Git!” Draco groaned.</p><p>Another stroke, and another, then Harry mused, “What’s with your Patronus, anyway?”</p><p>“<em>Hnngh</em>— what?”</p><p>“Your Patronus. How did you come up with a platypus?”</p><p>Draco made a titanic effort and lifted his head to glare at Harry. His expression of disgust, contrasted with his flushed cheeks and lust-blown eyes, was so ludicrous that Harry burst out laughing and missed his next stroke. Reaching out to catch Draco behind the neck, he brushed a thumb along his swollen, pouting lip, then pulled him up into a lingering kiss.</p><p>When his mouth was free, Draco pouted more outrageously and groused, “You’re supposed to be fucking me, not asking stupid questions.”</p><p>“It’s not a stupid question. I’ve never understood why your Patronus is a platypus, instead of something exotic and beautiful, like an occamy or a bird of paradise.”</p><p>“And this matters now <em>why?</em>”</p><p>Harry shrugged (quite a trick, considering his position) and replied, “I just wondered. Doesn’t it strike you as odd?</p><p>“What strikes me as odd is where you mind goes at a time like this!”</p><p>“Only, I’m surprised you even know platypuses exist, considering that they’re Muggle animals and very rare.”</p><p>“Oh, for Fuck’s sake!” Draco huffed, and Harry had the distinct impression that he would have thrown his hands up in disgust, if they weren’t propping him up. “I conjure my Patronus by thinking of Bob, all right?”</p><p>“Bob?” Harry echoed in confusion.</p><p>“Yes, <em>Bob.</em> My <em>son.</em> My <em>happiest</em> <em>thought</em>. Now, can we get back to the matter at hand, please?”</p><p>“But… What does a platypus have to do with Bob?</p><p>“<em>Forget. The fucking. Platypus.</em>”</p><p>“All right, fine, but this conversation isn’t over.”</p><p>“Git,” Draco muttered, as Harry leaned over him and began to roll his hips.</p><p>“Keep calling me names while you’re gagging for my cock and see where that gets you.”</p><p>“Just… f-fuck me, already, you… g-<em>unngh!</em>”</p><p>Harry laughed and drove recklessly into him, Patronuses and the need for rest forgotten in the joy of buggering his beautiful husband senseless.</p><p> </p><p>It was more than an hour later—after taking Draco repeatedly up against the counter, the wall and the kitchen table, after a particularly tectonic orgasm had rendered them both dazed and boneless—that Harry brought up the platypus conundrum again. They were sitting on the floor, slumped against a cabinet, scraping the last of the Slytherin Crunch out of its carton and sharing the spoon. Harry licked melted ice cream from his own fingers, then leaned in to do the same for Draco’s lips.</p><p>“So.” Harry sat back to eye the other man brightly. “About your Patronus.”</p><p>“Seriously?” Draco cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “You’re not going to let this go?”</p><p>“No, so quit stalling and tell me. Why is your Patronus a platypus? And how do you even know such an animal exists?”</p><p>“Bob carries a plush one with him everywhere he goes,” Draco pointed out.</p><p>“Well, yes, but that’s because you bought it for him. You started conjuring a Patronus when he was a baby, before he knew a duckling from a dump truck.”</p><p>“A what, now?”</p><p>“Never mind. Explain the platypus to me.”</p><p>“If you insist,” Draco sighed.</p><p>He paused to swipe his finger around the inside of the ice cream carton, picking up the last of the creamy residue, then licked it clean, while Harry watched with an appreciative twinkle in his eye. When the last traces of ice cream were removed from both finger and carton, he smacked his lips, smirked and said,</p><p>“I’ve always liked platypi.”</p><p>“It’s platypuses, not platypi.”</p><p>“Don’t be so pedantic. It makes you sound like Granger.”</p><p>“You’re just annoyed that I know something you don’t.”</p><p>“Do you want to hear this, or not?”</p><p>“Fine, go on. You’ve always liked <em>platypuses…</em>”</p><p>“I saw a picture of one somewhere—I don’t remember where—and pestered my mother until she bought me a book on rare non-Magical animals so I could learn about them. Father never quite forgave her for that.”</p><p>“He didn’t approve, I take it.”</p><p>“You even have to ask? But I can’t really blame him, considering how insufferable I was as a child. I must have begged him to buy me a pet platypus once every ten minutes for <em>years</em>. The only thing I wanted more was a top-of-the-line racing broom.”</p><p>“Which you got.”</p><p>“Only to shut me up about the ruddy platypus. Anyway, there’s your answer.”</p><p>“So… Felix is the pet platypus you never had as a child?”</p><p>Draco rolled his eyes again and groaned, “You’re such a literalist, Potter! Bob is not a <em>pet! </em>But he is a platypus, in a way.”</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>“Think about it. The poor child is part you, part me, part his French Veela twat of a mother. He’s even got some of my fucking parents in him! He ought to be terrifying. But instead, he’s a sweet, charming, brilliant little boy that everyone adores. And it’s not because of his Veela magic, either. It’s all him! Bob! Like a duck-billed mammal that lays eggs, he’s completely impossible and completely perfect, at the same time!”</p><p>“If you say so.”</p><p>Draco’s eyes cut over to his face and narrowed in suspicion. “Why are you looking at me like that?”</p><p>“Like what?” Harry could only assume that his expression was unbearably soppy (he certainly felt as if his internal organs had turned to mush), but he couldn’t help himself. Hearing Draco talk about his son that way did strange and wonderful things to him.</p><p>“Like you’re going to say something I’ll loathe.”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>Harry’s hands reached for Draco of their own volition, dragging him across his lap. Then he ducked his head to bury his face in the curve of the other man’s neck. The intoxicating smell of his heat made his guts clench and his cock swell.</p><p>“All I wanted to say,” he mumbled, lips still clinging to the sweet-scented skin of Draco’s throat, “is that I need to fuck you into the floor.”</p><p>“Oh. That’s… that’s fine, but… shouldn’t we at least try to make it to the bedroom?”</p><p>“Later.” Harry rocked forward, bearing Draco to the floor and sprawling atop him. Draco’s thighs opened to clasp him, and he sank effortlessly into the offered body. “Much later.”</p><p>“I am going to be one, massive bruise before we’re done.”</p><p>“You love it, Malfoy.”</p><p>“I do.” He strained up to capture Harry’s mouth and began to move with his forceful thrusts. “I really do…”</p><p>*** *** ***</p><p>“<em>Merlin’s saggy tits!</em>” Harry collapsed onto Draco’s chest, gasping for air and shaking. “This is going to fucking kill me!”</p><p>“You!” Draco protested. “You have all my nice, tender flesh as a cushion. All I’ve got is these stairs! Which are digging into my spine, by the way…”</p><p>Harry rolled off of him with another tearing groan, only to fetch up on those same hard, pointy stairs. “Ow!”</p><p>“Told you so.”</p><p>They had left the kitchen, heading for their bedroom and the wide, lovely, soft mattress awaiting them there, but gotten distracted somewhere between the second and third floors. Draco lay with his head on the edge of one wooden step, his tailbone balanced on another, and two or three more cutting stripes of pain across his back. Not that he’d cared, when Harry had dragged him down and plowed into him. It was only now that they were done, his lust cooling for a few precious seconds, that he noticed all the ways he hurt.</p><p>“How long is this supposed to last, again?” Harry rasped out, forcing Draco to open his eyes and turn to look at his gorgeous, wrecked face.</p><p>He gave a soft snort and said, his usually sharp tone blunted by exhaustion, “Did you not listen to a word Granger said?”</p><p>“Of course I did. Only, you’ve melted my brain so I can’t think anymore.”</p><p>“Lying sod,” Draco murmured, eyes gleaming provocatively at him from beneath his lashes. “You’re the one who said we should do it just for fun.”</p><p>“Yeah. Well. That was… I don’t know… yesterday? The day before? It’s not so much fun anymore.”</p><p>One silver-blond brow arched sardonically. “Poor baby. Am I working you too hard?”</p><p>“You’re torturing me.”</p><p>“Me? You’re the one who’s not getting the job done! I’m just your flower pot, remember?”</p><p>“<em>Eurgh!</em> Don’t call yourself that.”</p><p>“It’s a metaphor, you Philistine.”</p><p>“Git,” Harry said wearily, his head dropping back to the step and his eyes falling closed. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can <em>get the job done</em>, as you so charmingly put it.”</p><p>“You’d better,” Draco muttered, “or I’ll go mad from unslaked lust, forget to eat or sleep, and eventually hurl myself to my death from the parapets.”</p><p>“We don’t have any parapets.”</p><p>Draco sighed. “You always manage to miss the point, Potter.”</p><p>“I’m just saying…”</p><p>“And I’m <em>just saying </em>that the salient point was my tragic death from defenestration, if you fail to do your duty. Not the architectural deficiencies of this house.”</p><p>“So it’s windows now, is it? Well, at least we have those.”</p><p>“Wait.” Draco lifted his head once more to fix Harry with an incredulous gaze. “You actually know what ‘defenestration’ means?”</p><p>Harry just rolled his eyes, laughed, and pulled Draco down where he could kiss him. When their lips were free again, he murmured fondly, “I love it when you talk like a very posh dictionary.”</p><p>“I thought you loved it when I swear like a Marseille dockworker.”</p><p>“That, too. Basically, I love everything you do with that filthy, aristocratic, <em>talented</em> mouth.”</p><p>“Ooh, a challenge… But not on the stairs. I want a hot bath and a nice, soft bed!”</p><p>“Can you actually walk as far as the bedroom with that stiffie you’re sporting?”</p><p>“Classy, Potter.”</p><p>Harry chuckled and heaved himself to his feet. Holding out a hand to Draco, he said, “Come on. I’ll carry you.”</p><p>Draco took the offered hand and came up into Harry’s arms with a smug grin on his face. “My hero.”</p><p>*** *** ***</p><p>By late on the second full day of Draco’s heat, Harry was starting to worry. Draco lay limply against his chest, watching him with dazed, glazed, half-lidded eyes that didn’t track properly, while Harry stroked him with a wet flannel to cool his burning skin. He shivered at the shock of cold but didn’t have the strength to protest or pull away. He didn’t even want Harry to touch his engorged cock, which worried Harry more than all the rest. The one constant throughout this ordeal had been Draco’s unquenchable lust. Now, though he was still visibly aroused, he couldn’t muster any interest in sex.</p><p>Harry, his own libido smothered under his growing concern, bent all his efforts toward making Draco more comfortable. Strengthening potions. Cups of tea. The wet flannel to bring his temperature down. Soft, undemanding words murmured in his ear to remind him that his husband was close by. And as he worked, Harry wondered what they were doing wrong.</p><p>Draco should be pregnant by now. Merlin knew, they had tried enough times. If Hermione was to be believed (and when was she ever NOT to be believed?) this was all about power and desire, rather than simple biology. A woman could fail to conceive a child for any number of reasons. A wizard would only fail if his magic failed, or if the spells went wrong. Obviously, their spells had not gone wrong—Draco’s heat was proof of that—so it had to be their magic, but that didn’t fit, either.</p><p>Harry knew (though wild hippogriffs couldn’t drag the admission out of him) that he was probably the most powerful wizard alive. Draco was nearly as powerful in his own way, so between them, they should have had magic enough to produce an army of children. Yet Draco’s heat went on and on, proving that they had failed to conceive even one. Which meant…</p><p>What?</p><p>If it wasn’t a fault in their spellwork or a lack of raw magical power, what was stopping them?</p><p>Draco stirred weakly in Harry’s arms, turning his face into his shoulder. “Can’t…” he mumbled, dragging Harry’s attention reluctantly away from his own thoughts, “can’t tell him…”</p><p>“Hmm?” Harry grunted, only half listening.</p><p>Draco had been dropping random remarks that made sense only in his lust- and fever-addled brain for some time. He didn’t seem to need a meaningful response, just a reminder that Harry was there.</p><p>“Father. You can’t tell him.”</p><p>“No worries.” Harry wetted his flannel again and swiped it gently over Draco’s flushed cheek. “I never talk to your father if I can help it.”</p><p>“He’ll t-take it…”</p><p>“Shh. Lucius isn’t taking anything.”</p><p>“Don’t tell Dobby, either.”</p><p>That finally got Harry’s full attention. He frowned down at his befuddled husband, hand suspended in mid-stroke, to demand, “What about Dobby?”</p><p>“Can’t keep a secret. Not his fault… he tries, but he has to… has to punish himself…”</p><p>“Draco. Love.” Harry pressed the cold cloth to Draco’s forehead, trying to cut the fever and bring him back into focus. “You’re scaring me. Dobby’s gone. Don’t you remember?”</p><p>“He tells Father everything… told him about my kitten, and Father took it. He’ll take the baby, too, if he finds out.”</p><p>Harry gulped and dropped the flannel to cradle Draco’s head protectively against his shoulder. “No, he won’t. We’ll protect the new baby, like we did Felix.”</p><p>After a quiet minute, during which Harry wondered if anything he said was getting through to Draco, the other man murmured, “Harry?”</p><p>“Yes, love?”</p><p>“Are you going to give him Bob, once we have our own baby?”</p><p>“<em>What?</em>”</p><p>“Is that why you want one so much?”</p><p>“What are you <em>talking</em> about?”</p><p>“This baby will be a real Potter, and Bob… Bob is a Malfoy…”</p><p>“Felix—<em>Bob</em>—is as much a Potter as I am!” Harry insisted. “He’s my first-born son and he always will be, no matter how many children we have after him!”</p><p>“Really?” Draco lifted his fever-bright eyes to Harry’s face, and Harry saw that they were swimming with hot tears. “You really mean it?”</p><p>“Of course I do,” Harry said firmly.</p><p>Draco’s lip began to tremble. “I’m scared.”</p><p>“Of what?”</p><p>The first tear slipped between his lashes, and Harry caught it with his fingertips, brushing it away. “My parents. Having a baby inside me. Making a little Potter that you’ll love more than me and Bob.”</p><p>“Oh, my ridiculous darling.” Harry pulled him close again and began to rock in a soothing rhythm. “Love isn’t like a treacle tart. It never runs out. And the pieces never get smaller, no matter how many times you cut it.”</p><p>“That’s a terrible analogy,” Draco mumbled damply.</p><p>“I think I made my point.”</p><p>Draco sniffed and tried to burrow deeper into his shoulder. “Maybe we should just get a kitten.”</p><p>Harry swallowed a slightly hysterical laugh. “It’s a little late for that, I’m afraid.”</p><p>“I’m scared.” A pause, a shaking breath, then he whispered, “I want to do this for you, Harry, but it hurts and I’m scared. When will it be over?”</p><p>“Soon. Trust me, love, I promise it’ll be over soon.”</p><p>“How? It isn’t working.”</p><p>“Shhh.”</p><p>More to distract Draco and ease the pain in his body than from any hope that it would solve anything, Harry laid him down and rolled him onto his stomach.</p><p>“What…?” Draco mumbled dazedly.</p><p>“Hush. I’ve got you.”</p><p>Harry gently lifted his hips and shoved a pillow under them. Then he stroked a hand up Draco’s spine, pressing him into the mattress. Obedient to his touch, Draco instinctively canted his hips up and spread his knees, opening himself. He was breathing more quickly, the ever-simmering heat in his blood taking over, and between his legs, Harry could see his prick stretching up his belly. As he watched, Draco rolled his hips, rubbing himself against the pillow and dampening it with his need.</p><p>“Harry,” Draco whimpered, turning his burning face into the coverlet.</p><p>“Trust me.” Harry shuffled into position between his legs, one hand caressing the upturned curve of his arse. “You’ll feel better soon.”</p><p>He was painfully hard. The sight of Draco laid out for him, open and vulnerable, begging with every inch of his body, was almost enough to make him come on the spot. But, at the same time, his heart swelled with an aching need that had nothing to do with the heat coiling in his belly. He took a long moment to prepare himself, as he had not for two endless, lust-filled days. Conjuring a handful of lube, he stroked it over his rigid cock, then slid two fingers smoothly into Draco’s body. Draco whimpered again and lifted himself higher. He was more than ready, so, as gently as he had ever done it, Harry drew his hand out and eased his cock in.</p><p>He bottomed out in a single, effortless stroke, fetching up bent over Draco’s back and clasping him with his body. They fell still, letting heat course through them. And in that blissful moment, when they felt more like one body than two, Harry finally understood: this wasn’t about how hard he <em>fucked</em> his husband; it was about how hard he <em>loved</em> him.</p><p>Love and magic. That was all they needed.</p><p>A shudder of triumph went through him. Pushing himself upright, he stroked his hands up Draco’s back again, soothing him, and murmured, “I love you so much, Draco.”</p><p>“Nnngh! Harry!” Draco keened.</p><p>“Shh, I’ve got you.”</p><p>He gave himself one more moment to savor the heat of Draco’s body enveloping him and the pulse of pleasure in his own guts, then he pulled nearly out and stroked in again. Draco moaned. Ecstasy and magic rose at the sound, swirled in Harry’s loins, sparked along his nerve-endings and coursed through his veins with his blood. He thrust again—slow and smooth and full of seething power—and again and again. Draco was weeping into the coverlet, rutting against the pillow that supported his hips, helpless in the grip of their shared need. Harry wanted to bury himself forever in that beautiful body. Lose himself in it. Empty himself into it and never come out again.</p><p>His climax coiled, hot and heavy, in his belly. He began to tremble. His hips stuttered on their next stroke, and Draco gave a high-pitched whine that made Harry’s magic surge. He groaned, bent forward and pressed both palms into Draco’s arched back.</p><p>“Hold on, love,” he gasped, even as his stomach tightened and his cock jumped.</p><p>Draco moaned again—a wrecked, wanton sound—and knotted his hands fiercely in the blanket to anchor himself.</p><p>Then the orgasm crashed into them. Harry cried out, hips pumping furiously, filling Draco up with his seed and his magic, fucking them deeper and deeper into him, while Draco shuddered and sobbed and emptied himself into the pillow beneath his hips. So powerful was his release that Harry’s mind spun out into darkness for a blissful minute.</p><p>When he staggered back into his own skull, he found himself sprawled on Draco’s heaving back, still buried to the hilt in his arse, gasping for air like a beached fish. He uttered a soul-deep groan and pushed himself up on his hands. Draco gave no sign that he noticed, just lay there shaking, eyes closed, mouth open, face streaked with tears. Harry pulled out with another groan (because separating himself from Draco was always a groaning matter) and collapsed onto the bed at his husband’s side.</p><p>“Draco?” Harry reached out to cup his damp cheek. “You okay?”</p><p>Draco’s only answer was a small, broken sound. His lashes twitched but did not lift.</p><p>Harry rolled closer and feathered a kiss to his eyelid. “Please tell me you’re okay.”</p><p>Draco swallowed audibly, then murmured, “Can’t move.”</p><p>“You don’t have to move.” Scooting closer, Harry stroked the tumbled hair back from Draco’s face and kissed him softly. “Do you think you can sleep?”</p><p>“Hold me?” Draco mumbled.</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>Harry gathered the other man into his arms, snugged his body comfortably to his own, and pulled the blankets up over them both. At the same time, he sent out surreptitious spells to clean their bodies and the bed. Draco just sighed when he felt Harry’s magic on his skin, his lips turning up in a fractional smile.</p><p>“I’m here if you need me,” Harry whispered into his ear, “if your heat flares up and you need another shag, or you get hungry, or you want the loo or whatever. Just tell me.”</p><p>“Mm. Sleep.”</p><p>Draco burrowed closer, tucking his head under Harry’s chin. Harry petted his hair and kissed the top of his head. The other man gave a contented sigh, seeming to deflate in Harry’s arms. He was unconscious before the long breath had passed his lips.</p><p>*** *** ***</p><p>Harry awoke to the warmth of sunlight on his face. He cracked his eyes open, then promptly screwed them shut again and burrowed his face into the tangle of hair that covered his pillow, groaning. It was morning.</p><p>Wait… it was <em>morning? </em>And Draco was…</p><p>Once more, he opened his eyes and blinked to bring the face lying so close to his into focus.</p><p>Draco was asleep.</p><p>Harry sat up. The blankets slid down his bare torso, exposing his skin to the chilly morning air and revealing the livid bruises that decorated it (apparently, fucking on uncarpeted stairs was a bad idea). His movement pulled the blankets off of Draco’s huddled form as well, but the other man gave no sign that he noticed.</p><p>If Harry was liberally bruised, Draco looked as if he’d gone fifteen rounds with a crazed erumpent. He was bruised, scratched, abraded and bloodied. He was also so deeply asleep that he didn’t even twitch.</p><p>Draco was asleep. Hours and hours after their last shagging, he was still asleep. Which meant his heat was over. Which meant…</p><p>“You’re pregnant,” Harry breathed, bending down to comb his fingers through Draco’s hair, cradle his head as if it were something infinitely precious, and press a kiss between his silvered brows. “You did it, Draco, you’re pregnant.”</p><p>Tears stung his eyes, but he laughed in delight and kissed the sleeping man again.</p><p>“You did it! You… oh, <em>fuck!</em>” He suddenly flung himself toward the side of the bed, thrashing and kicking to free himself of the blankets, and wailing, “Fuck, fuck, the potions! I need the fucking <em>potions!</em>”</p><p>When his feet finally hit the floor, Harry bounded up and headed for the door at a run, paying no heed to the fact that he was tearing around stark naked, without wand or glasses. He had to reach the potions cupboard in the pantry, four floors down, where they had foolishly left the potions Draco needed in these first, crucial hours of his pregnancy. Because, of course, after carefully compiling a list of the necessary potions, buying what they could and brewing what they must, practicing the arcane spells that accompanied them, and memorizing the timing for each dose, Harry had gone and left the potions in the kitchen.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>He charged into the hallway, half-crazed with fear that they had slept too long and put the fragile, new life Draco carried in peril, only to come screeching to a halt just outside the door. His head came up, and he sniffed the air. Bacon. Coffee. Eggs in butter.</p><p>Someone was cooking breakfast.</p><p>Fear giving way to rage, Harry nipped back into the room to pull on a pair of joggers and grab his glasses. He was still fuming when he headed for the stairs once more, the world back in focus and his wand in his hand. He knew what he would find when he reached the kitchen. Only a handful of people could have penetrated the Fidelius charm that hid the house and the wards that protected it, and even fewer people would dare to violate his privacy without so much as a by-your-leave. The intruder was no threat, but that didn’t make him any more welcome at a time like this.</p><p>The smell of cooking food grew stronger, as Harry strode down the basement hallway toward the kitchen. His stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him just how long it had been since he’d eaten. At that tell-tale sound, the figure standing by the stove turned to fire a shamefaced smile at him.</p><p>“Hullo, Harry.”</p><p>“Ron.” Harry stepped into the room, his wand falling to his side but his scowl still firmly in place. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“Making pancakes,” Ron flourished the spatula he held, then gestured to the array of serving dishes covering the counter, “and a few other things. Hermione said you’d be too knackered to cook for yourselves, so I thought I’d help out.”</p><p>Still frowning—more in discomfort than anger now—Harry padded over to the table and dropped into a chair. “You came here to cook for us?”</p><p>Ron shot Harry a stern look as he plunked a cup and a coffee pot down on the table in front of him. “I came here to make sure you were still alive. Three days without a word? Honestly, mate, did you expect us to just let you disappear?”</p><p>“Hermione must’ve told you about the… well…”</p><p>Ron’s face abruptly turned a shocking shade of red. “She told me.”</p><p>“So you knew we were kind of busy.”</p><p>Ron folded himself into the chair opposite Harry’s and regarded him soberly, his flush betraying his discomfort but his gaze steady. “I wouldn’t have barged in like this, but Felix is having a bad time. He’s afraid that Ferret is sick and that we’re all hiding it from him. He was up most of the night, crying, begging us to bring him home, so once we finally got him to sleep, I came over here to check on you.”</p><p>Harry felt a twist of guilt in his chest. He had completely forgotten about Felix in the frenzy of Draco’s heat. His poor son was crying for his parents, and Harry had not even spared him a thought!</p><p>“I tried to floo-call first,” Ron went on, interrupting Harry’s orgy of guilt, “but no one answered, so I just came through.”</p><p>“I…” Harry broke off to clear his throat, then rasped, “I guess I was asleep. I didn’t feel the wards go off.”</p><p>“You weren’t just asleep.” Ron grinned. “You were comatose.”</p><p>“You didn’t sneak into our bedroom!”</p><p>“Don’t be daft. The last thing I need to see is you and Ferret…” his lips twisted into something between a smirk and a grimace, “<em>making little ferrets</em>. I used a <em>Homenum revelio </em>to locate you and a couple of other charms to make sure you were both still alive. Then I decided that you’d need feeding when you finally woke up. Speaking of which…” He pushed himself to his feet and headed for the stove. “What can I get you?”</p><p>“Nothing right now. I have to— hold on! What time is it?”</p><p>Ron glanced at his watch. “Half ten.”</p><p>“Shit! I forgot the potions!”</p><p>“What potions? Hey! Harry!” Ron called after his retreating back, as he bolted for the pantry and the potions cupboard.</p><p>Harry returned a moment later with a double handful of potions vials. He made straight for the door at a trot, leaving his wand on the table beside his untasted coffee. Ron’s call stopped him in the doorway.</p><p>“What’s up?”</p><p>“I have to give Draco his potions! Then I have to— shit, shit, <em>shit! </em>Where’s my wand?!”</p><p>“Harry, mate, calm down. It’s right there on the table.”</p><p>“Get it for me, would you? I haven’t got a free hand.”</p><p>Ron obligingly brought the wand to Harry and held it out. Harry caught it between his teeth, then rolled his eyes when Ron laughed.</p><p>“Take Ferret his potions, then get your skinny arse back down here and have some breakfast, you mad wanker.”</p><p>“Make us trays,” Harry mumbled sloppily around his wand. “Draco has to stay in bed.”</p><p>“What about Felix? What do I tell the poor little blighter?”</p><p>“Later! Gotta go!” With that, Harry fled upstairs to his pregnant spouse.</p><p> </p><p>Draco flatly refused to wake up. It took Harry precious minutes to drag him back to some semblance of consciousness, and still more to coax the vital potions down his throat. The moment he’d swallowed the last brew, he closed his eyes, burrowed down in the blankets, and passed out. Luckily, the first round of spells to stabilize the new pregnancy did not require any magical input from Draco, so Harry could perform them on his insensible body.</p><p>It wasn’t until Harry summoned a heavily-laden tray, and the delectable smells of breakfast filled the room that Draco deigned to rejoin the living. As Harry peered under covers and napkins to see what Ron had prepared for them, Draco stirred, rolled over, and grumbled something incomprehensible. Harry glanced up with a relieved smile.</p><p>“What was that, love?”</p><p>“Food,” Draco said thickly, shoving himself up on his hands.</p><p>“Wait!” Harry dropped the plate he’d been holding and reached for his husband. “Don’t try to move!”</p><p>“I need food.”</p><p>“And I’ll get it for you, but <em>you</em> need to lie still!”</p><p>Draco muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Overprotective Gryffindor git,” but obediently sank back onto the bed. Harry, in his nurturing element now that he had crushed Draco’s rebellious spirit, took over. He dressed his husband in a long, soft, flannel nightshirt, then propped him up against a heap of pillows and handed him a cup of coffee. While Draco sipped his coffee and watched with sleep-bleared eyes, Harry piled a plate with various foods, including a generous stack of pancakes topped with blueberries.</p><p>Draco accepted the plate, waited for Harry to spread a pristine white serviette over his lap, then forked up a bite of pancake. One taste, and his brow arched up in surprise. He turned an accusing look on his husband, but true to his ingrained standards of good breeding,paused to chew and swallow before speaking his mind.</p><p>“These are Weasley pancakes.”</p><p>Harry just nodded and took a bite of pancake for himself.</p><p>“Why am I eating Weasley pancakes?”</p><p>“Because Ron made them for you,” Harry replied through a sticky mouthful, “and because they’re your favorites.”</p><p>“Harry.” His level glare made Harry stop in mid-chew and brought a faint flush to his cheeks. “Are you telling me that Weasel is downstairs right now? In our kitchen? <em>Cooking?</em>”</p><p>Harry nodded, grinned sheepishly, and resumed eating.</p><p>“When did he get here?”</p><p>Harry heard the threatening note in his voice but chose to ignore it. Shrugging unconcernedly, he shoveled still more food into his mouth and mumbled, “Don’t know. Didn’t hear him come in.”</p><p>“So, your friend—<em>your fucking friend</em>—just barged into our home while I was… while we were… <em>Bloody fucking hell, Potter!</em>”</p><p>“Calm down. He didn’t see anything.”</p><p>But Draco was on a tear and not remotely inclined to calm down. “Do none of you Gryffindors have any sense of decorum?!” he railed. “Any <em>common decency?! </em>We could’ve been… in front of the floo… on the stairs… on the <em>kitchen counter! </em>Merlin’s saggy tits! He could have seen you fucking me up against the walls!”</p><p>“He didn’t. I promise. Draco, <em>calm. down.</em>” Harry was on his feet, bending over his husband, wand in hand. “You’re going to make yourself ill. Or hurt the baby.”</p><p>“Oh, and that’s what matters, isn’t it?!” Draco hissed. “Your precious baby?! Never mind that you let a weasel roam all over our house while I was in <em>heat?! </em>Because, of course, my total humiliation in front of one of my few remaining friends is of no consequence whatsoever!”</p><p>“Okay, that’s it. Stop with the hysterics, right this instant, or I’ll have to use magic on you.”</p><p>“You will <em>not! </em>You keep your wand away from me! And your <em>other wand</em>,” he added scathingly, his gaze shooting daggers at Harry’s crotch, “while you’re at it!”</p><p>“Draco.” Harry plumped down on the bed and banished Draco’s plate with a wave of his wand. Then he grabbed the other man by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “I mean it. No more.”</p><p>At Draco’s angry sob, he pulled the other man against his chest and wrapped him up in his arms.</p><p>“Hush. I’ve got you.”</p><p>“It was supposed to be <em>private,</em> Harry!”</p><p>“It was. It <em>is.</em> Ron didn’t see anything, and he wouldn’t judge you, if he had. Trust me, love. He only came because of Felix.”</p><p>Draco stiffened but didn’t pull away. As always, he could not resist the heat of Harry’s body or the shelter of his arms. “What’s wrong with Bob?”</p><p>“He wants to come home.”</p><p>He did pull away at that, lifting his head to scowl at Harry through a screen of rumbled hair and wet lashes. “Then what are you waiting for? Go get him.”</p><p>“Later. When you’re stronger. I’ll floo-call him after breakfast to make sure he’s okay, but I can’t look after him and you at the same time. Not when you’re too weak to sit up or get yourself to the loo.”</p><p>“I’m perfectly fine.”</p><p>“You’re not, you know. You’re going to be in that bed for a week, at least…”</p><p>“I’m not waiting a week to see my son!”</p><p>“Of course not. Just a day, two at the most, ’til you’re rested up and don’t need spells or potions every couple of hours.”</p><p>Draco pouted—so familiar and beloved an expression that it banished most of Harry’s worry in a flash—and burrowed into his husband’s arms again. “Those potions taste like hippogriff piss.”</p><p>“And you know this how?”</p><p>“Shut it, you.”</p><p>Harry chuckled, then urged, “Eat your pancakes and have a good nap. Build up your strength for Felix.”</p><p>“Hmmph.” Draco obediently slumped back against the pillows and accepted his plate. “I expect to find him here when I wake up.”</p><p>“We’ll see.”</p><p>*** *** ***</p><p>As it happened, it was closer to three days before Harry deemed it safe to let Felix back into the house. He floo-called the boy several times and once, when he found Felix on the verge of a tantrum, left Ron at Grimmauld Place with Draco while he spent a couple of hours at the Burrow with his son. On the third day, Draco was positively chipper, sitting up in bed to read Magical Law texts and grousing about the temperature of his tea, telling Harry that he was strong enough to endure Felix’s company.</p><p>It was midway through the afternoon and Draco was asleep, lying against a heap of pillows with an enormous tome splayed face down on his chest, when Harry slipped into the room with Felix in his arms. He checked in the doorway, and exchanged a look with the boy. When he lifted a finger to his lips, Felix mirrored him.</p><p>“<em>Shhh</em>,” they both breathed together.</p><p>Harry grinned, eyes twinkling, but Felix looked unusually somber.</p><p>“Is Papa sick?” he whispered.</p><p>“Not sick, little man, just tired,” Harry replied in the same hushed tone.</p><p>“Why’s he tired?”</p><p>“Because his body and his magic are both working very hard.”</p><p>“What’re they doing?”</p><p>“Something very special and very secret.”</p><p>The quicksilver eyes widened dramatically. “I c’n keep a secret.”</p><p>“I know you can, sweetheart, and we’ll tell you all about it when we’re sure it’s going to happen. But for now, I need you to be gentle with Papa. No shouting or bouncing or whining for treats. None of your Veela mischief. He needs quiet to rest.”</p><p>Felix regarded his sleeping father for a moment, his expression thoughtful and (deceptively) angelic. Then he turned those enormous eyes on Harry again and proclaimed, “I’m tired, too.”</p><p>“Are you?” A smile tugged up one corner of Harry’s mouth. He had no trouble believing that Felix was thoroughly worn out, after a week of terrorizing his Weasley relatives, but it wasrare thing for him to admit it. “Maybe you need a nap."</p><p>A dimple peeped in Felix’s cheek. “With Papa.”</p><p>“Only if you promise faithfully to behave yourself. I mean it, Felix. I don’t want you crawling all over your father, disturbing him when he’s trying to rest. You curl up in bed next to him and <em>go to sleep.</em>”</p><p>“Promise <em>faithfully</em>,” the little boy echoed.</p><p>“All right, then.”</p><p>Moving on silent feet, Harry approached the bed. At the same time, he sent out a gentle wave of wandless magic that lifted the heavy book from Draco’s chest and wafted it over to the nightstand. With the removal of its weight, Draco sighed and twisted onto his side, unconsciously drawing his knees up to protect his stomach. Harry set Felix down on the bed in front of his father and lifted the covers so he could scoot under them. Then he smoothed the white-blond hair back from his little face before kissing his forehead.</p><p><em>Promise faithfully,</em> he mouthed, earning himself a beatific smile from his son. Felix then closed his eyes and squirmed into the curve of Draco’s body to snuggle against his chest. Harry was about to turn away, when he caught a gleam from beneath Draco’s lashes and realized that the other man was awake.</p><p>Their eyes met, and Draco’s mouth tilted up in a fractional smile. His lips formed a silent <em>Thank you</em> that brought a happy ache to Harry’s chest.</p><p>Bending down to drop a kiss on those faintly smiling lips, he whispered, “You’re welcome.” Then he slipped out of the room, leaving the two white-blond heads resting side by side on the pillow.</p><p>
  <b> <em>Finis</em> </b>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, there you have it. Draco is now up the duff. Still to come: the effect of Draco's pregnancy on Harry's libido and what happens when the rest of the wizarding world finds out.</p><p>I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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